Much Needed Hate
by Akai-neechan
Summary: People did say that hate and love are just a step apart, but it was a big and hard (terrifying) step that neither of them was willing (brave enough) to take. So they put a fair line between the two emotions and kept hating each other. Shizaya OneShot


_A/N: This might not make much sense at first, but that's only natural since this was supposed to be the last chapter of a multy chaptered FF that I just didn't have the will to type. Still, I was fairly happy about how the ending came out to be, so I decided to post it as a one shot. So I leave whatever happened before this Oneshot to your imagination ^^ Now, enjoy, please x)_

**Much Needed Hate**

"So that's how it is, then," Tom rubbed the back of his head with confusion written all over his face.

"Sorry, Tom-san," Shizuo muttered from around his light cigarette. "you've done a lot for me and all…"

"Ah, no, no need for that!" The debt collector waved it off. "I'll be fine, it's all right if you've found a better job! I just…" he hesitated a bit. "Never would have thought you'd actually work for him."

"Hm," there was a bit of wonder in the other's eyes. "What the hell," he shrugged finally. "This way I can actually get the flea annoyed by scaring off _his_ clients for once."

"That's cold, Shizu-chan," Tom instinctively took a step back as both men turned to look at Izaya perched on a railing just across the street. "I go and give you such a generous offer and that's what you want to do with it?" The voice was faking hurt yet the smirk on the face made it way too easy to see through the blunt lie. "Besides, you shouldn't forget that's where your paycheck'll be coming from. Wouldn't want to risk it now, would you?"

"You really think I care, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo dragged out every syllable of the name with the nastiest of grins spreading over his face as the smoke was torn from his mouth and crushed in his fist.

"Oh, Shizu-chan's in a good mood?" The informant leaned forward excitedly as Shizuo started taking slow steps closer. "How about you chase me back to my place then, you only have an hour before your shift starts, you know? You wouldn't want to be late on your first day of work." Izaya slipped the last bit in his most annoying and baiting sing-song voice just as Ikebukuro's beast grabbed a lamppost just across the street from him.

"I'd be delighted!" He roared and tore the lamp from the ground and just as he was about to charge, a truck sped between the two of them and by the time it'd passed, Izaya was half way down the sidewalk laughing gleefully.

It's unneeded to mention that Shizuo was not exactly happy about that predicament. With another one of his battle cries, he ran after the smaller male waving the street lamp all around himself, until finally he got the chance to throw it at Izaya. The bastard, of course, dodged skillfully and just as the metal pole was crashing through a wall next to him, he threw a couple of his _annoying_ blades towards his pursuer. None landed on their target and before he could do anything more a vending machine was torn out of its rightful place before a convenience store and was flying his way with obvious intentions of cracking skulls and breaking bones.

And so it continued, the never-ending war that threatened to destroy half (or maybe entire) Tokyo. Yet while it had actually had a purpose before, it had really become hard for Shizuo to chance Izaya out of Ikebukuro now that the bastard _lived in Ikebukuro_. So, the aimless chase was more a game of sorts, or rather a habit than an actual threat and they both knew, yet participated. Because it had been decided that most things would stay like before.

_What they had wasn't love. It was the farthest thing from love. It would be an insult to those who truly loved each other, to call their twisted relationship love. People did say that hate and love were just a step apart, but it was a big and hard (terrifying) step that neither of them was willing (brave enough) to take. So they put a fair line between the two emotions and kept hating__ each other._

Most, but not all. That's what Shizuo remembered when an arm stretched out and wrapped around his neck all of a sudden, stopping him so abruptly that the stop sign he had been clutching flew from his hand and crashed on the ground not too far ahead. Before he could even realize what was happening, he felt the familiar touch of cold steel against the right side of his neck at the same time that an evenly familiar tongue started mercilessly teasing his left ear.

"You truly are a monster, Shizu-chan," the words were purred into his ear in such a low and throaty voice that he felt them radiating all thorough his body until they settled down north. "But that's all right. That's perfectly fine with me. 'Cause, you know, I love all humans, and I love them all the same! While with monsters… I can play favorites."

All the while he kept talking, his hot breath made shivers run up the bartender's back and the tip of the blade started moving slowly, pressing against his skin with just enough force to leave a red line in its wake but not draw blood (_yet_).

"Like, for example, I find you much more entertaining than that headless obsession of Shinra's," he murmured as he moved his lips lower, planting them on Shizuo's neck and biting down hard. A growl escaped the taller one's mouth and suddenly Izaya's wrist was trapped in an iron grip and he had to perform an admirable pirouette that had him twirled around Shizuo, only so that his arm wouldn't be broken. Only problem was that little stunt had him wide opened and defenseless (the switchblade had been conveniently lost somewhere in the process) and right where Shizuo wanted him. Not wasting a moment, the beast reached out and grabbed him tightly by the neck. "A-ah… she was…" Izaya struggled to take in short breaths around the hold. "your fri-… end, right…" As the grip tightened and he clawed at the hand that was slowly lifting him off of his feet, Izaya's mouth was suddenly rendered useless all thanks to the tongue that was being shoved down his throat.

The informant found it hard to respond while suffocating, so he started thrashing around until his mind became hazy from lack of oxygen (or maybe heat from the kiss?). That was when he was suddenly released and all but crumbled to the ground, lifting his hands to his neck to feel at what was certainly going to be a necklace of dark blue bruises the next day. He breathed in large gulps of needed air, as a hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back; hungry lips (and teeth and _–oh-_ tongue) attacked his abused neck and made him release a series of uncontrollable (_needy_) sounds.

Just about then a leg slipped in between his and Izaya realized he was pressed against a wall (the wall of the hall of the first floor of the apartment building he currently resided in and had lured Shizuo towards in their game of cat-and-mouse) and that his growing hard on was perfectly matched by the beast who held him in such a position.

"Hay, Shizu-chan," he panted breathlessly as he reached for the other's neck and suddenly dug his nails deep into the exposed skin earning a loud snarl, before he continued with a more formal voice. "You don't really think I'll let you fuck me in a public place like this, do you?"

"I'm not giving you much of a choice, am I?" punctuating his words with a sharp bite at the skin where he could hear the other's pulse the loudest, Shizuo moved his leg teasingly slow. Just as he looked up to witness his victory, Shizuo's gaze was met with the flustered sweaty face of his nemesis-

-and the sharp point of a blade inches away from his eye.

"I'm not asking for a choice, either, Shizu-chan," the man purred dangerously as he flicked his wrist the slightest bit and planted a nasty cut on the other's brow. "My place's just a few stories above, you know. It shouldn't be that hard for you to keep your primitive urges in check for that long, should it?"

_Yet somewhere along the way their hate had changed. __The hate was just as strong (or maybe stronger, stronger than ever before, the strongest it could be) and it burned. It was a raging inferno, sparked by the other's very existence (and an invisible hand kept throwing oil in the flames every time they met so they would hate hate hate each other more and more and more) that suffocated them and took over everything when they were this close._

Maybe it was just Izaya trying to mock him at first, but as the elevator's door opened and they exited (_stumbled_ out of) it, they were pretty much attached to each other with hands and lips and tongues roaming and pushing clothes up and down. And Shizuo could hardly walk with his pants around his ankles and maybe it had been Izaya who did that (and maybe not) but as they finally reached (fell over) the door (with Izaya flat against it and his shirt pushed up and hungry lips devouring everything in reach) and the informant managed to unlock it (or did Shizuo break the handle instead?) and shut it behind them, the clothes (nuisances) started disappearing at record speed.

And once again they crashed and stumbled over each other and they fell into the bed (as a single pile of moving limbs and heated skin and breathy moans) and then suddenly Shizuo was pushing in (without any care or any warning) and Izaya was screaming and it felt so good it was unthinkable because it hurt like hell at the same time. And the pace that was set was fast and hard (and _way_ too easy to follow) and before he knew it the cries of pain had turned in ones of _ecstasy_ and they were playing this new game where no one was trying to kill the other, and the rules were as simple as '_more, harder, faster'_ and they were both so lost in it that nothing else mattered.

And once they finally reached the desired release and finally crumbled in a breathless heap on the abused mattress (with _blood_ rolling down from the angry red trails of Izaya's nails on Shizuo's back and _bruises_ appearing all over the informant's pale skin) everything else seemed to still for yet another moment and once again the world disappeared as they bathed in the afterglow.

_And it was addicting. _

_But it was fine. Whatever the reason for their hatred, it was a fact and it was there and it was powerful enough to sweep them both from their feet and make them go for the kill at a single glance. Yet somehow it was never enough for them to kill each other. _

When Shizuo closed the door to the bathroom behind himself some fifteen minutes later, the water was still running and steam rose from the cracks. He secured the towel around his waist and took the other one off his dripping hair, letting it rest on his shoulders. As he moved through the spacious hall his eyes lazily slipped over the articles of clothing thrown this way and the other. Upon reaching his pants, he reached down and fished his smokes from the pocket, along with a lighter before progressing into the next room.

The woman that sat on the coffee table hardly spared him a glance, so he decided he should ignore her back, made his way towards the couch and dropped onto it. A smoke was taken out somewhere along the way and he lighted it easily, before inhaling deeply. Leaning his head back, Shizuo closed his eyes. Who would've thought that anything could lead him here? And not even with the intention to gut the flea. Not that he didn't want to, but it was just not what he was here to do.

He was here to protect him. To guard him, because as long as this twisted game of theirs continued, no one else had the right to touch him. Simple as that.

"You'll die young at this rate, you know," Her voice was cold detached, as if she was just reciting something that had been said over and over again and didn't have anything to do with her.

"Oh?" He wasn't in the mood to choke her, really. Actually, he had managed to blow off so much steam in the last half an hour that he felt somehow at peace.

Huh. He had really never expected to feel that being in the louse's apartment.

"Can't you at least take it outside?" As she finally turned to him, she glared hard at the smoke he exhaled.

Shizuo pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and eyed it, actually considering it for a moment, before shrugging and returning to his peaceful smoking as if he had never been interrupted.

"Disgusting," the woman muttered and maybe he was supposed to hear it, and maybe not, but it didn't matter and it didn't irk him like it would at any other time. Because he simply couldn't bring himself to care what this woman thought of him.

"Now, now, Namie-san," that voice, on the other hand, made his brow twitch slightly and he had to remind himself that he wasn't supposed to jump and chase him around at the moment he heard it. That was going to take a while to get used to. Shizuo turned his head to the side and observed him entering the room dressed only in a fresh pair of dark pants, rubbing the water off his wet hair with a towel and _smirking_. "You should really try to get along, considering you'd have to work together now, you know. I wouldn't appreciate any murderous intent over the absolute necessary."

"Then you simply shouldn't have brought him here."

Completely ignoring the answer, Izaya made his way across the room and only stopped when he was in front of Shizuo's relaxed figure on the couch. Leaning forward, he put his knee next to the bodyguard and kissed him lightly (_teasingly_).

"I'm looking forward to working with you, Shizu-chan," he purred in that amused tone, wrapping his hands around the other's neck.

Throwing him an unimpressed look, Shizuo inhaled through his almost-burnt cigarette and blew out the smoke right in his face, enjoying the distasteful look that was immediately written there. Izaya's own eyes narrowed dangerously and he dug his nails into the other's neck, chuckling at the hiss that earned him. He was just about to face the repercussions when an annoyed 'tsk' attracted their attention.

"Haven't you ever heard of 'work protocol'?" Namie snapped and glared at the little display. "I've had just about enough _listening_ to you go at it in the other room!"

A nasty grin spread over Izaya's face, but before he could say anything Shizuo's brows rose.

"Jealous?" It sounded like a simple thought that he had let slip through, yet it intrigued the informant beyond imagination and he laughed gleefully.

"I honestly hope you did not just think I was jealous of a sly fox like him!" Namie looked beyond annoyed and it only served to brighten Izaya's mood further. Oh, that angry face she was trying to mask was so entertaining!

"Those incredible instincts of yours are rally something, aren't they, Shizu-chan!" He exclaimed. "So absolutely primal yet so right! Although," the look on his face turned teasing, "I'm not really sure he meant you were supposed to be jealous of m-"

"I'm leaving!" She snapped the documents she had been reading on the coffee table and stood sharply. "I believe my work for the day is done. You never need me for your meetings, anyway. Why don't you try to get your little bodyguard to bring your guests tea instead? I bet he'll do a wonderful job," she added before twirling around and moving towards the door.

"Oh, that sounds like a splendid idea!" Izaya giggled (Giggled. The bastard _giggled_!). "Maybe I should find a maid outfit too; it would be a wonderful asset!" As if feeling the rising anger within the other, the entire air around Izaya changed within an instant as he finally turned towards the retreating woman. "And, by the way, Namie-san, I'd just like you to know that there might be other people who make better tea than you…" he narrowed his eyes just slightly, the look in them predatory, as he leaned towards the other man, his face hanging inches apart although he never turned his eyes to him. "… but I don't think I can find someone to protect me better than him."

Having sensed the change of the mood, she paused by the door, before throwing an unmuted look back towards them, and excusing herself. Not too long afterwards, the front door closed with a soft click and the two of them were left alone in the spacious apartment.

Chuckling, Izaya stood from his position over Shizuo and with a look that said 'that was taken care of', he moved across the room to a small table the other hadn't noticed until then.

"Despicable," Shizuo growled.

"Why of course she is," the informant stood over the strange board game and shifted around a couple of pieces. "It wouldn't be interesting if she weren't!"

"I meant _you_," the word was spat like poison yet he only received the most delighted smile from the other.

"Why, isn't that the ultimate praise, Shizu-chan?"

_They needed each other. Shizuo needed Izaya and Izaya needed Shizuo. They needed the other to push them forward, to scream at, to fight, to kiss, to fuck and to hate. Because that hate (the other) had become an irreplaceable part of their existence, something they couldn't imagine anything without, because without it (him) there would be nothing that matters and there __would be no point in anything. _


End file.
